


Ease You Down

by MoMoMomma



Series: Kinktober 2018 [29]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Eden's Gate Cult, Blow Jobs, Collars, Dom/sub Undertones, Face-Fucking, Light BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 16:48:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16580297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoMoMomma/pseuds/MoMoMomma
Summary: “You had said--you mentioned that you--” John shakes his head, almost seems to gather himself. “I was wondering if, perhaps, you’d be opposed to...taking control.”





	Ease You Down

“So! Deputy Rook. What do you do in your free time, when you’re _not_ saving the lives of the many citizens of Hope County?”

Rook can’t help but laugh, watching John round his couch with a cup of coffee in each hand. He hadn’t expected to have this much fun when Nick had set him up with a “pilot friend, he ain’t as good as me but he ain’t been flying as long.” All he’d known about John was that he was new to Hope County, moved here with his brothers, and he was a lawyer. 

He’d honestly been expecting to be bored to tears and excusing himself right after dinner, not agreeing to come back to John’s place afterwards--ranch, he owns a fucking _ranch_ \--for coffee.

Rook’s glad he did though. 

“I’m pretty boring, admittedly. Mostly just going for runs up in the Whitetails or fishing. And what about you?” Rook accepts the coffee with a murmured thanks, scotting over to let John settle right next to him on the massive couch. “What does a lawyer in a small town do when he’s not settling custody disputes over cows?”

“You joke but I’ve done that before.” John mutters with just enough of a chagrined smile Rook laughs again. “I help my brothers for the most part. Joseph runs a church--I’m sure you’ve seen the commune on the island north of the valley. And Jacob’s getting the Veterans Center up and running again. Both of those things tend to require some legal help.”

“Right, yeah.”

Oh, he’s more than seen the commune. The Sheriff’s Department has had more than a few calls come through, paranoid people untrusting of outsiders, even though as benign as the followers of Eden’s Gate. Joseph Seed has always been polite, if a bit intense, and Eden’s Gate hasn’t caused any trouble. 

“Oh, no.” John sighs and seems to recoil, even if his knee is still bumping Rook’s. “I know that look. You know of my brother’s following and you don’t want anything to do with it, right? Or, more specifically, anything to do with anyone who might be connected.”

“No, no, not at all!” Rook hastens to assure him, reaching down to curve a hand over John’s knee. “I was just--I didn’t make the connection. I’m a Deputy, I should be a little quicker on the uptake. Your brother and his church haven’t caused any trouble, I don’t really have any opinion on them other than they seem, for the most part, pretty harmless.”

“Oh.” It’s more a breathed sigh than a word. “That’s--well, good. I would’ve hated for our date to go so well only to end so abruptly.”

“You think it’s going well, then?”

“Oh, I don’t just invite anyone into my home.” John purrs, all traces of earlier resignation gone as his eyes go catty, mouth curling up into something more wicked than a smile. “Most dates are lucky to get me to agree to call them the next day.”

“High standards, hm?”

“I simply know what I like. And you, Rook Wylde? I like you very much.”

Rook bites his lip to try and contain the smile that threatens to spread, cheeks flushing as his eyes dip to his coffee mug. He can’t quite look at John--he’s never been good with outright flirting like that, always felt a bit awkward when he wasn’t in his element. But John doesn’t give him the option, leaning over until his head is nearly in Rook’s lap and he can’t _not_ laugh at the absurdity of it all.

“Sorry, sorry, yes, I like you too. Sorry, m’just not...haven’t been on a date in a while.”

“So Nick mentioned.” John murmurs, setting himself upright once more and sipping from his cup. “Hard to imagine why. You’re handsome as sin and--well, I wouldn’t say smooth is the word, but…”

“Look, I’m not used to dating in general.” Rook admits with a low laugh, scrubbing a hand over his nape. “Most of my...before Hope County was just hookups. One night and little more than that.”

“Really?” John drags the word out, lets his accent turn it into a tease. “I would have never guessed. You seem so...what’s the word? _Pure_.”

“Don’t say it like it’s an insult!”

“I don’t mean it to be, certainly, but it’s fitting.”

“Yeah, well,” Rook tips his cup to his mouth, mumbles around the rim, “you wouldn’t say that if you knew more.”

“Isn’t that the whole point of this?” John waves his cup. “Getting to know more about each other? Things that aren’t maybe fit for the polite company of a crowded restaurant?”

“Ah...well.” Shit. He never actually intended for John to ask. Normally people just let it go seeing how vaguely uncomfortable he is talking about it. 

Clearly John doesn’t intend to. Not when he’s leaning forward, one elbow on his knee with his chin cupped in his hand like he’s waiting for storytime. 

He can’t--he doesn’t talk about this. Not with people he’s not actively going to be doing a scene with. John doesn’t seem like the type, though Rook knows better than to judge on appearances alone. 

But John is still patiently waiting and Rook’s going to have to say something or he’s going to make this whole thing more awkward.

“Uh...so...what do you know about BDSM?”

“Oh,” that same breathy little noise again, “that is--well. You are certainly full of surprises, Rook.”

“I get it if it’s a deal breaker or--”

“No, not at all.” John sits upright, grips his forearm gently. “I admit I dabbled a bit when I was younger but nothing serious. Not with anyone who knew what they were doing.”

Rook’s hackles go up in an instant. He knows how bad it can get, the damage improper control of a situation can do. He twists, pulls a knee up onto the couch, and John seems almost shocked for a moment when Rook grasps for his hand. 

“Hey, you’re--you’re alright, right? No one did anything too bad?”

“Oh, no, it’s--nothing serious. Enough to make me leery of going back, of course, but not enough to turn me away completely.” John waves away his concerns with a small smile. “I imagine it’s far better with someone more...practiced.”

“It can be. But it could also bring up some nasty memories.”

“I’ve got a lifetime of those already.” John’s laugh doesn’t go all the way to his eyes and Rook frowns but can’t chase that line of thought because John’s already talking again. “I am...curious, though. What do you dabble in, specifically? Being hurt? Hurting others? Domination, submission?”

“I like, well--I like being in control. And letting others not have that control. I don’t so much take it from them as allow them to be responsibility free, to focus on the moment and nothing beyond that.”

“I admit,” John says after a moment when he seems to gather his thoughts, tongue swiping out over his lips, “that is...a rather appealing idea. I was always one to _give up_ the control. But it was never presented like that.”

“I don’t like the idea that you’re giving up control. You have _all_ the control in that situation if you’re the one being submissive. You start and stop as you please and you control what happens entirely. It’s just...a release.”

“Right.” John’s exhale is shaky and Rook can’t help but scoot a little closer, provide some warmth and closeness when he’s so clearly off-kilter. 

John Seed doesn’t seem like a man who’s often off-kilter. But Rook can understand why he found himself in the submissive position. John seems like he carries a great deal on his shoulders, not just from whatever past he’s unwilling to speak about but from the stresses of everyday life. It’s on the tip of his tongue to offer some release, offer him a way to escape it, but Rook’s never been the type.

He lets others come to him. He doesn’t actively go seeking someone who might not want what he’s offering. 

“Well,” Rook drains his cup when John doesn’t say anything more, just stares at him with a gaze that’s a little lost and a little hungry. “Another subject, I think? Seems like that one got a little heavier than we were expecting.”

“Of course, yes,” John agrees but never quite shakes the stunned look from his features, even once two hours have crawled by and Rook’s sliding his jacket on by the front door. 

“You will, I hope, call? Or text?”

It’s not really a question, more John confirming what the easy lean of his body against the front door and the lingering trail of fingers down Rook’s chest suggest. Rook smiles, dips his head when John’s fingers catch and tug at the front of his coat. The kiss is sweet, admittedly deeper than Rook thought it would be, and so hot it nearly makes him groan. John kisses like he’s _starved_ for it, like he’s gone too long without just like Rook, and Rook has to force himself to drop his hands when he realizes he’s pinned John between his body and the door. 

“I will. I’ll--yeah. Of course. I’ll give you a call once I have my schedule, see when we can do this again.”

“Of course.” John’s lips are already red, probably a little swollen from Rook’s teeth when everything got a bit too hot to control himself properly. “Yes, I--please do.”

.O.

John doesn’t bring it up again for a few days. Just the normal sort of texts, teasing questions about how he’s doing in his quest to rid Hope County of evil-doers and asking if he’s eaten enough today, drank enough water, “do you need me to bring something by? I don’t mind, it wouldn’t be out of my way.”

It’s cute. Rook’s not used to being pursued like this, not used to dates turning out to be anything more than casual friends who give a nod of acknowledgment when they pass in public. It’s enough that he admits, lowly and a bit sheepishly when the Sheriff catches him staring at his phone, that he might, maybe, possibly, have a boyfriend now. 

Earl laughs at him but he’s pretty sure that’s more because Rook could heat his lunch on his face at that moment than any stumbling over the term. 

Nothing more on the subject that Rook spends a few idle moments daydreaming about, letting hid mind wander when he’s getting ready for bed or on a particularly boring bit of speed trap duty. Until John texts him as he’s leaving work on Wednesday, just a small “would you like to come over? Possibly stay the night?”

Rook’s gotta admit, it’s probably the classiest booty call he’s ever had. But this is John, after all. That’s almost to be expected.

John’s waiting by the front door when he pulls up to the ranch, the setting sun making him look intense, arms crossed and weight balanced on one foot, hip pushed out. Rook makes his way up the stairs and over the porch with a sense of looming importance, like there’s something more going on here than he can really see from a look. It has his hackles up, though John smooths them down with an easy smile, reaching out the second he’s close enough.

“I admit, I’m a bit disappointed you changed out of your uniform.”

“Got a thing for it?” Rook laughs, allowing himself to be tugged close and drug down into a kiss.

Just as scorching as it was before. With something _more_ this time, lingering just under the press of John’s tongue and the soft way he moans into Rook’s mouth. Rook takes a chance, slides his hand over John’s hip and upupup until he can curve his palm around the nape of his neck.

Just one single squeeze. Not even hard enough to be uncomfortable. But it’s enough to have John’s fingers clawing into his shirt for balance, weight leaning up against him like he needs Rook to make sure he stays upright.

“I’m going to take a guess,” Rook pulls back, grins when John tries to follow with a soft whine, “and say you didn’t just invite me over for dinner.”

“You had said--you mentioned that you--” John shakes his head, almost seems to gather himself. “I was wondering if, perhaps, you’d be opposed to...taking control.”

Rook tips his head, considers him. John’s swaying in place, still held around the back of his neck, leaning into him. But his eyes are clear and he doesn’t look drunk or otherwise impaired, just a bit starry-eyed from the kissing. He nudges him back, John going willingly until they’re inside the ranch proper and Rook can gently kick the door shut with his heel.

“What’d you have in mind, sweetheart?”

As it turns out? Not much. John pulls away, paces a bit as he explains. Explains what he wants and what he feels like he needs, the words so practiced and sure in comparison to earlier Rook wonders idly if John had practiced this before he’d even asked him to come over tonight. He details his hard limits, his soft limits, and his safeword in such matter-of-fact words that Rook is confidant he wasn’t lying about having done this before. 

Though he imagines this time will go a bit differently. John hadn’t seemed particularly enamored with the memories of when he did this in the past, Rook aims to change that.

“So,” Rook crosses his arms, once it’s all said and done and he’s given up his portion of the necessary information, “what do you need from me, sweetheart? What do you want to do?”

“I want to...I bought a...here. It’s probably better if I just show you.”

“Probably,” Rook agrees. “Where?”

John grabs hold of him, leads him up the stairs with a gleeful sort of air, like they’re teens sneaking around while their parents aren’t home. Rook can’t help but smile, amused by how _eager_ John seems. He’s guided into a bedroom that fits the air of sophistication that bleeds from every bit of John, dark wood contrasting with light accents and a massive bed with blankets that look sinfully soft.

“Here. I didn’t know if you--if you don’t like it we don’t have to use it, of course, but--”

“Hey, easy.” Rook strokes his free hand down John’s back. “We’re here to do what you want. How about you show me and then I can decide?”

John offers him a grateful smile and then lets go of his hand with a squeeze. He crosses to a oak dresser at the side, pulling open one of the lower drawers and extracting a slim wooden box. It’s shiny, clearly new, and Rook watches as John fiddles with it, shifts it around in his hands.

“As I’ve said, if you don’t want--”

“John.” Rook forces his voice level despite the excitement that’s coiling in his stomach. “Show me what’s in the box.”

It’s a collar. An extremely well made one, if the box itself is any indication. It’s clean leather, something softer on the inside that Rook can’t make out. Not particularly thick or fancy, but it’s pretty.

And it is gonna look _gorgeous_ on John. Dark against his more pale complexion. Rook reaches out before he can think better of it, lifts it from the box to weigh in his hands. Well made, just like he thought, the buckle on the back an old fashioned type of clasp, similar to a belt. 

Which means John trusts him quite a bit, so quickly. No quick release. For someone with bad experiences before, this is a lot. 

“This, I think, should be enough for tonight.” John looks like he wants to protest and Rook holds up a hand to stop it, the collar hanging from one finger. “This is a lot of trust. We don’t need to push too far, too fast, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Sweetheart,” John tries the term, rolls it around in his mouth, clearly considering if the shiver is any indication. “I like that. Yes, then. Just this.”

“Just this is plenty.” Rook wiggles the collar, bounces it in his hold. “You want me to put this on you?”

“ _Please_.”

John looks just as pretty as Rook thought he might. Doubly so when he lets Rook strip him out of his clothes, down to just his briefs, which are pulled tight over his stiff cock. The collar presses in when John swallows, visibly bites into the delicate skin of his throat. Rook urges him down to his knees, tips his head up with one curled finger under the chin.

“Alright, sweetheart?”

“Yes, I’m--yes.” John wriggles in place, hands on his thighs, the picture of eager waiting. 

“I’m gonna have you suck me off. And if you’re good, if you’re _very_ good, I’ll let you come afterwards. Sound good?”

Always lay out the plans. No surprises for the first time, not when Rook’s not familiar with John. He knows the limits and how to end it if it get to be too much, but that’s not enough to just do as he pleases without letting John know what’s coming next. 

John nods, furiously, swallowing so hard his Adam’s apple presses painfully against the collar. 

“Yes, yes, _please_.”

“Open your mouth.”

John complies, dropping it open and waiting. He’s well-behaved, Rook will give him that, patient and quiet as Rook undoes his jeans just enough to drag his cock free. It leaves him pinched by the zipper but he can’t focus on that right now, not when he’s feeding the length of it past John’s lips. Pressing down onto his tongue and sliding deep, deep enough it makes his breath catch.

John’s head is tipped back at just the right angle Rook could slide all the way to the base if he wanted. Cup a hand around the back of John’s head and grind his nose into his pubic bone. He doesn’t, but it’s a temptation. Especially when John gags the slightest amount at the first deep thrust, throat flexing around the head and tears springing into his eyes.

He’s going to be a fucking wreck by the time this is over. He’s already heading towards it fast, lips red and swollen, tears streaming down his face, drool slipping down his throat. 

Over the collar.

Rook reaches down, hooks a finger through the small ring near the center. It’s barely wide enough to fit his finger through but it works, lets him tug John in closer. There’s a muffled panicked sound but John’s hands stay on his thighs, not lifting to push him away. Rook pulls until John’s eyes go wide, until he starts to pull back, releasing him so he can gasp for air.

“Alright?” He asks quietly, John’s forehead against his hipbone for a moment as he pants. 

“Yes, green, just--again.” 

It’s hard to make out the words entirely, mostly rasps of a ruined throat, but Rook understands. Especially once John draws back and opens his mouth once more, flashes the pink of his tongue as he extends it. 

Rook doesn’t pull him in by the collar again, not yet, fisting a hand in his hair instead. He’s more gentle this time, letting John bob his head as opposed to holding him close. But it’s a quicker pace, one that has John breathless, soft little moans leaking out around his cock. 

“You like this, huh?” Rook shushes John when he hears something close to a response, though it’s little more than a groan. “Yeah, I know you do, baby. I know this is what you needed. Just needed someone to put you in your place, show you where you belonged. All those stresses and responsibilities taken away until you’re nothing more than what you want to be. A hungry little cock whore.”

John’s eyes squeeze shut as he groans, leaning forward eagerly, choking around his cock. Rook knows what he’s talking about, had John pegged from second one, with or without this little kink. John’s the type who feels more in control when he’s on his knees taking orders, and Rook _loves_ those types.

So much easier to work with. No arrogance or pretenses. 

“Fuck, you’re so good for me. You’re gonna make me come.”

John huddles closer, swallowing pointedly around Rook’s cock like he thinks Rook needs the encouragement. Rook groans, cups his free hand around John’s jaw to hold him in place and fuck his face for a moment, slowing too soon when it sends him rushing towards the edge. 

Fuck, John’s the hottest thing he’s ever gotten near. And Rook isn’t going to be able to keep this up.

Not when John’s pressing himself forward, keeping Rook’s cock down his throat. Not when he’s gagging and choking but still swallowing. Not when his eyes are open, filled with tears but still locked on Rook’s face.

Not when he _needs_ so plainly Rook feels it like a punch to the stomach.

“Fuck. _Fuck_.” It’s all the warning he can offer alongside a strangled groan of John’s name when he comes. John, predictably, swallows every single drop, gulping obscenely. Rook lets him suck until it’s too much, until he’s shaking from over-sensitivity that borders on pain, before gently pulling him back. John settles obediently, mouth still open, so gorgeous Rook hooks a finger in his collar and pulls him in once more.

But up this time. Lowers himself until they meet in the middle and he can press a kiss to John’s swollen lips. He makes a soft noise, surprised, maybe, and Rook instantly wants to beat the hell out of everyone who’s come before him once more. He lowers himself to his knees carefully, gingerly, cupping John’s face in his free hand to keep him in tight. 

“You were amazing.” He keeps his voice soft, too aware of the hazy look in John’s eyes, the pleased little dopey smile lingering on his lips. “God, you were so fucking good. How was it, sweetheart? Did you like it?”

“Yeah,” John breathes. “Felt good. Was good.”

“You want a reward?” Rook reaches down but finds nothing, John soft between his thighs but suspiciously damp. “Did you--”

“I really...you’re so perfect.” John murmurs, a blush spreading high on his cheeks that Rook covers in kisses. 

“Oh baby, you are perfection, you know that? Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up and then we can get into bed.”

“You’ll stay?” John asks, shakily rising to his feet when Rook guides him up, mostly leaning on him. “For the night?”

“Sure, honey. As long as you want me.”

“Careful,” John murmurs, still sounding dazed and out of it, looking at Rook with pupils blown. “I might just keep you forever.”

“Oh, I dunno.” Rook flicks the ring of the collar gently with a smile. “Seems to me like I’d be the one keeping you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still working on the Kinktober prompts! I'm also taking prompts over on my tumblr for the next big WiP. Check out [this post](http://momomomma2.tumblr.com/post/179966518296/winterholiday-prompts) and drop me a prompt in my inbox if you're interested!


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